


The Tale Of How Clan Mora Saved Ysgramor With Some Help From Kyne After They Were Yelled At

by NeoQwerty



Category: Elder Scrolls, The Elder Scrolls: Legends
Genre: (Yeah the Atmorans as dragons is actually a thing in the TES lore), (you're free to steal from it), Gen, It's implied Kellen is Jhunal/Julianos, Personal TES Headcanon, Post-Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, The Nerevarine gets told his own backstory as a campfire tale, Very Obscure TES Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26904067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoQwerty/pseuds/NeoQwerty
Summary: A monk and a reborn mer share a campfire.The monk tells the tale of the Atmoran elves, whose blood ran through Clan Mora until a god unmade them as tribute to his beloved.
Kudos: 1





	The Tale Of How Clan Mora Saved Ysgramor With Some Help From Kyne After They Were Yelled At

**Author's Note:**

> This is all part of my personal headcanon mythos I made to flesh out Nerevar. (Yes, the "Moramer" of this fic are _that_ Mora family's ancestors.)
> 
> If you're wondering who Kellen is, he's the monk narrator in Elder Scrolls Legends who tells the storylines.

The monk smiles as curious gazes settle on him, and he peers into the campfire, letting himself see the world of before. Next to him, the tawny owl twists its head, carefully surveying the area, sharing its sight with him. All is calm, safe, and listening.

Kellen begins the tale.

"Back in the times of oldest old, when the kingdom of wandering giants wasn't yet frozen in time and snow, it was the place from which peculiar elves emerged. They were the spirits of Atmora itself, born from the Elder Wood. 

They were fast, and agile, and, in the sight of the children of Kyne, different. But they were unlike the elves of Tamriel. They looked more like men than mer. Small of height, broad of frame, with human eyes and human souls. Without seeing their ears or seeing them move amidst the Elder Wood, not even the king of Atmora could tell them apart from his own.

But still, the children of Kyne were cautious, and the Moramer were same of their new dragon-hearted neighbors. What few differences there were, they existed, and that was enough. So for years, Atmora remained divided; the mountains and plains and shores and seas to man, and the deep, tangled and dark forests and their unknown wonders to mer.

Until, one day, the frost crept out from the heart of Atmora, freezing the green world under glass-like ice, and cutting out the source of the Atmoran men's strength and stature. The Kings of Atmora were first to fall, and man was forced to flee for safety. Those on the mountains took refuge with dragon-kin, and took fleeing wing back to their birthplace, where Kyne had first breathed them, led by Alduin. 

Those on the plains and shores were stranded and wingless, had only fishing boats and an entire sea of hungry teeth and wind-ghosts to cross, and no knowing of the direction to take to rejoin their brothers and sisters. So it was that Ysgramor went to the edge of the Elder Wood, and Shouted warning to the elves about the coming frost. He Shouted a promise of help, should the Moramer join his clans, for he knew the elves of the Elder Wood could never lose their way.

The elves agreed, and left their only-known home to join Ysgramor, his Companions, and the Atmorans who would come to call themselves the Nords, and dispersed into the boats. When it came time to sail, Kyne sang a last farewell to Atmora, and her breath filled the sails of the fishing fleet. The Moramer closed their eyes, and followed the sound of the wind as it hissed ahead of them, until it landed with a crinkling sound unknown and yet known, a final note of joy and home.

They remembered the sound, and guided the vessels through teeth and ghosts, through the darkest, starless nights and the bleak, sunless days, racing against the pursuing freeze-death, until they made landing on the shores of Dawn's Beauty. There, they were greeted by the other Atmorans and their guardians, and given clan status, with Kyne's blessing."

The young-looking mer with too many lives and too many years in his eyes makes a wondering noise, one ear flicking as if trying to shake off a persistent sound, before he asks, full of curiosity, "What was the name of the clan?"

Kellen smiles, a glint of knowing _too much_ that makes his eyes seem owl-like when the campfire flickers as he feeds another log into it.

"The clan named itself after its home, as was the tradition then in Mereth. Clan Atmora, which became Old-clan Mora with the rise of the Nords."


End file.
